Life Is A Stage
by Keketra
Summary: A drabble I think in Jason's point of view, leading to his suicide. Bare Fic . Warning: Mild Slash. Rated T for Slash.


**Life is a Stage…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bare. It belongs to the following people. I'm just messing with the heads of it's characters!**

**Book by** Jon Hartmere & Damon Intrabartolo,**Music by** Damon Intrabartolo, and …**Lyrics by** Jon Hartmere

**Warning: Slight slash (Obviously, for those of you who know Bare!)**

His heart was breaking. Slowly, painfully, cracking in ways he never thought it could. All those lines he thought he'd erased, right back again as he looked at the face of the man he- no. He couldn't say it. Couldn't say it even though it was so, so real. Life was a stage, and he had to keep acting. He always found it easier… but then he could always bury his head in the sand and try to just ignore all the feelings, all the wanton desires that were supposed to be so disgusting. He had to forget the stolen kisses and touches that were supposed to be sinful but felt _so good_… he had to forget everything, and just be the perfect son, the perfect friend, the perfect student.

Watching the couples, the _normal _couples, he knew he was supposed to fit in, supposed to be one of them. Yes, he'd been there, yes he'd tried… but nothing, _nothing_ was able to replace the pain in his heart, the love and passion staring and being with someone that he couldn't possibly be with. Hiding at night… maybe that was even better than the act he'd found so cold and calculating. He'd felt like a true actor then; saying all the right lines just to make _her_ happy, all the while knowing that he did not want this. But by the time he'd realised, it was too late. Too late to just push her away… push her away as he wanted to.

But now everything's so messed up, he doesn't know where to begin. The one person he wanted he pushed away, pushed away so far he wasn't sure he'd ever get back. And God, he _needed _him. He needed him so, so much. Waking up night after night calling his name, stifling his calls into a pillow wet with tears was destroying him, slowly, painfully, and he knew he could not deal with this any longer.

He just wanted him back.

He tried to live; tried to be normal… but it couldn't happen. The priest had told him as such… he was a dead man no matter what he did. He knew he was supposed to marry… _her_… supposed to be with her and comfort her as their… child… was born, but he just couldn't. He couldn't do what he had to do. He was sick and tired of doing what everyone else wanted him to do. He wanted to just… forget. And he wanted one final kiss; one final acceptance, one apology he knew he would never get, nor deserve.

So when that small vial was delivered into his hands by the only, the _only _person who would talk to him, save his sister, he was more relieved than he wanted to say. He didn't want to do this… but … he did. He wanted to eradicate the feelings, the emotions, the _longing_ that was tearing him apart piece by piece. To just _look_ at the man he'd lost caused his heart to constrict so painfully he couldn't breathe. He didn't even ask what was in it; he just took it without question. He trusted this one friend; this saviour, whose words, ironically, were just what he wanted.

"Never say I don't deliver…"

_And deliver you do my friend…_ he thought ironically, not even trying to smile. Out of the corner of his eye he could see P- _him_ (he couldn't even _think_ his name, though his heart is crying it every second, every breath) laying a hand on _her_ shoulder, sympathetically. Doing what he should be doing, comforting her… but he couldn't.

Would they cry when he…? Would they feel guilty? He hoped _he _wouldn't. He needed to speak to him, though, needed to try one last time…

He watched him leave, heart crying out painfully. However bittersweet his confession, he's said it. He's done it. Finally, he said the words that he'd been longing to say since… well, since they set eyes on each other. The final kiss was almost enough; almost; to pull him out of his despair, confess what he'd done, confess… everything… but

_Father, forgive me, I have sinned…_

He hadn't told him that he'd spent the last month crying every single night, crying for _him_. He couldn't. But he did tell him something else, something much more important… _I love you…_ three words he'd always found so hard to say, and yet in that moment, so easy. So easy in the darkness… but God, he couldn't' say them out loud, in a crowd, even now, when everyone knew.

Everyone…

God he needed a drink. He needed… something.

Why were they all dancing so damn fast? He couldn't keep up… even though he must have rehearsed this scene at _least_ a million times with Peter. Peter… he saw him nearby, dancing with… _her_ and tried to reach him, failing. God, he couldn't breathe…. He couldn't'…

"Peter!" he cried out hoarsely, stumbling to reach him as he collapsed to his feet, choking. Strong arms encircled his waist, and he felt himself being held. He felt warm… oh, so wonderfully warm… a voice, a voice he'd longed to hear for so long, it felt so long, yet wasn't it just hours ago? God his head… his head _hurt_ so much. Why were they all crowding round him, why…?

"Steady…" Peter's voice above him, trying desperately to calm his convulsing body. His hands gripped at Peter's shirt, trying, frantically to grasp onto to something… he could hear crying… _Nadia…_ and then, wonderful, blissful darkness.

Life was a stage, and this play had just ended…

**A/N: My friend gave me the recording of Bare a few months ago, and I've been completely hooked since! I just thought I'd do this one shot as I've come up against a block for my Narnia fics. I might do more here, but I don't know, depends on the reviews…. hint, hint!**


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